Mentalist Episode Tag: The Silver Wings of Time, 6x17
by Donnamour1969
Summary: Lisbon is involved with a great new guy. She should be happy, but for some reason, she isn't. Spoilers, 6x17. Rated T for mild language. A little angst, a little romance, a little humor.


A/N I think this is the best episode since "My Blue Heaven." For once, I was totally immersed in the actual case. Jane's interactions with Lisbon were heartbreaking, and a testament to the actors when they could communicate so much while saying very little. On Twitter, a few of us were having a conversation about why Lisbon looked unhappy, along with Jane. Here is my explanation.

**Episode Tag: "Silver Wings of Time" 6x17**

Lisbon was supposed to be happy.

She was in the early, fluttery stages of a new romantic relationship. She should be smiling and laughing and unable to eat very much. Giddy even. She was having wonderful sex with a handsome, considerate lover who actually asked what she wanted, both in bed and out. He didn't lie to her. He'd put all his cards on the table. He was ready to settle down. Get a wife and have 2.5 children in suburbia. And while he was never quite so bold as to say that wife would be her, the implications of Marcus Pike's intentions were clear. They always were. That in itself should make her giddy.

But it didn't. Not really. Not when Jane—

"No, Teresa," she said, slapping her hands against the steering wheel in the midst of evening traffic. "Jane has nothing to do with this."

Except he did.

He had _everything_ to do with this.

Tonight had been the second time he'd caught her right before a date. He'd wished her well, called her beautiful. Nothing snide or sarcastic. No innuendos about Marcus's unfitness as a partner or as a man. He was polite and almost indifferent. This is how she should want him to be, right?

Back in the CBI days, he'd teased her or made fun of the occasional date she went on. Invariably, the relationships would whither on the vine and things would go back to the way they always had been at work with Jane. The teasing, the banter, the light flirtation would continue. Indeed, they hadn't stopped while she was sleeping with Jerry in Accounting or Liam in Vice.

But things were different now. Jane's unemotional politeness was infuriating her. Where was the teasing now? Come on, there was a lot to pick on Marcus about.

He was vaguely Neanderthal in appearance, what with that wide nose and the low brow. He worked with the Art Squad, for God's sake. No remarks about him being in the sissy side of the FBI? No thinly veiled questions about Marcus's sexuality? His suits were off the rack and his cologne wasn't expensive and he had small hands and he—

Lisbon smiled wryly. Who needed Jane when she had her own list of Marcus's foibles?

But the truth was, she didn't mind any of those things about Marcus. Why would she, when he was such a good man? A kind man. Honest. Dependable. Lacking in all mystery whatsoever. The kind of man she'd been waiting for her whole life.

She sighed.

She should be deliriously happy.

But she wasn't.

Because Jane wasn't.

For so many years now, his happiness had been intricately woven with hers. His pain, his suffering had been as much a part of her life as it had been his. She could see that he was saddened that she was "moving on," but as yet he'd said nothing, done nothing to protest it. This was what she should have wanted, but it wasn't.

She wanted him—was practically _begging_ him—to protest, to mettle. To say those offhand words he'd said one night when he'd pretended to shoot her, because she knew in her heart he loved her, just as she loved him. But he was afraid. He'd lost the two most important people in his life once upon a time, and the obsession and the self-hatred had nearly killed him. So, she realized, he could see that this thing with Marcus had the potential to be very real, very serious. He was letting her go without a fight because he didn't want to risk losing everything again, because losing another love would finish him off.

It was understandable. She got it.

But he was a coward, and he was letting her go.

As Lisbon pulled up to The French Hen, she knew that a man awaited her inside who would never break her heart, never (once he admitted his true feelings) take them back. He'd never leave her or trick her or manipulate her. She could see herself loving him, but she knew he would always be her second choice.

Lisbon avoided the valet line and parked herself in the restaurant parking lot, feeling her eyes prickling with unshed tears as she turned off the car and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. She might have found Mr. Right at last, but Marcus Pike didn't make her heart leap when he smiled. Didn't infuriate her or sadden her or excite any other passionate emotions within her woman's heart. But he gave her contentment and comfort and security—qualities that were arguably much more valuable, much more realistic. Much more…sane.

It had been nearly a year since Jane had come back from South America, and despite his initial happiness at their reunion, they had settled back to the way things used to be. She didn't know if that was enough for her anymore. She didn't know if she could wait much longer for Jane to make a move, and it wasn't just because of her loudly ticking biological clock. He was stuck, and she didn't want to be stuck with him, not anymore.

She also felt torn about leaving him behind, which she'd been literally doing for the past two weeks, every time she went out with Marcus and she left him on that couch, alone and brooding.

"Good God, Jane" said Lisbon in a sudden burst of despair. "Why the hell don't you say something?"

_Why don't __**you**__?_ echoed the still, small voice inside her head.

Because Pike was the easy choice. The _logical_ choice. Taking on Jane would mean the rest of her life would be filled with upheaval and unpredictability. It would be difficult and challenging and she was too old to deal with it on a daily basis outside of work.

Lisbon lifted her head, her eyes going to the lights of the fancy restaurant. Marcus was inside, waiting for her.

It was an unfamiliar feeling to have someone waiting for _her_, for a change. Having someone anticipating your arrival, half-fearing you might be late or stand him up. It was unsettling just as much as flattering. She didn't know what to do with all this control. She smirked suddenly at her own musings.

With a sigh of resignation, Lisbon dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a tissue, then looked in her review mirror at the general state of her makeup.

Jane had said she looked beautiful, and she had no doubt Marcus would too. Not because she was vain, but because Marcus was a gentleman.

She would just have to get over the fact that when Jane had said it, her pulse had leapt. She would just have to get over a lot of things, if she was going to be with Marcus.

She caught sight of her date peering out the front door of The French Hen, looking impatiently for her, and even from there, she could see his low brow wrinkling in concern. Then he caught sight of her in her car, and his face lit up. He strode toward her, handsome, unwrinkled, and clean-shaven in his nice, off-the-rack suit (and tie).

Lisbon pasted a smile of greeting on her face.

"Hey!" he said, opening the car door for her. He helped her out by the hand, his eyes taking in the sexy length of bare thighs in blatant appreciation.

"Why didn't you use the valet parking?" he chided gently, kissing her cheek.

"I'm an independent woman," she said. "I've been parking my own car for years."

He grinned boyishly.

"Well, you deserve to be pampered once in a while. Someone should take care of _you_, Miss Independence."

He put her arm through his and held her hand as they walked back to the light of the fancy eatery.

"You're right," she said, looking up at him and giving him a genuine smile.

"You look beautiful, by the way."

Lisbon waited, her smile faltering a bit when the flush of pleasure didn't suffuse her at his words, although she was certainly flattered. She didn't think he noticed, and she covered it well with a murmured thanks.

The picture of Jane, lying forlornly on his couch, flashed in her mind, and for a moment she had the overwhelming desire to run back to her car and find him. But she resisted, took the easy, more heart-friendly route, and walked into the restaurant with her second choice.

Because she was a coward too.

**A/N: Jisbon is happening, people! Pike is obviously a plot device to get Jane to wake up and admit his feelings. There will be some bumps and angst along the way, but I know in my heart we will be rewarded in the end (I just hope it's not the end of the series). Can't wait for the next episode! **


End file.
